


Demons

by le_chat_vilain



Series: The Joker and the Thief [26]
Category: Suicide Squad (2016)
Genre: Blood, Choking, F/M, Gore, NSFW, Torture, gratiutous violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-13
Updated: 2016-02-13
Packaged: 2018-05-20 01:14:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5987209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/le_chat_vilain/pseuds/le_chat_vilain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jay gets sidetracked having a little chat with Victor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Demons

**Author's Note:**

> [TW: gratuitous violence, torture, gore, murder, excessive coarse language, choking, blood] You guys didn’t think Jay wasn’t gonna go fuck Zsasz’s shit right up for that bullshit he pulled, did you? How could I not let him do that? That would be so mean! I would never do that to him! Lots of gore in this one, lots of blood, and lots of…unsavoury language. But fuck me it’s fun writing as him. So much fucking fun.
> 
> Musical Inspiration: Demons by Sleigh Bells

She said she’d jabbed him and stabbed him and to follow the blood so that’s exactly what I do; she’s enterprising like that, my girl. Eventually it leads me out to some dirt tunnel. I keep following until I come to another tunnel, this time I’ve got options.

I look down for the bloodstains and they head down to the right, and I can feel the chill of a midnight breeze coming from my left. Left must be out. That means that right leads to fun. I check my watch and figure I’ve got a little time on my hands, and keep following that trail.

Like hell I’m letting him get away with what he did to her. I might not be perfect, and sure I’ve laid hands on her before – nothing I’m proud of by the way - but I’ve never, ever fucking forced her into that. Victor Zsasz is a fucking dead man, and whatever festering cesspool of hell he ends up in by the time I’m done is gonna look like Club fucking Med compared to what he’ll have been through.

I keep walking until I come to a brick wall. Well. This seems problematic.

I can see bloody handprints on the stone and I start to push on the bricks, leaning on them until they collapse forward in a pile, half of them falling on top of him.

“Evening, Victor, you and I need to have a little fucking chat, I think.”

I swing my crowbar down so that the hook of it lodges perfectly up under his sternum, and drag him into the tunnel. It kills him of course, but as Blaire’s informed me that he’s now ‘one of us’ so to speak, I know he’ll be back momentarily. It will give me time to put these bricks back in place and buy us a little privacy. Sure enough, about five minutes later, I hear him gasping and cussing behind me. He starts even louder when he realizes that I’ve nailed his hands and feet to the earth around him with four of the biggest knives I own.

“You can’t kill me, you know that right?” he winces, looking up at me with malice. You think that look’s gonna scare me, buddy? Please.

“Oh I know. You see, as much as my sweetheart would have loved to run you through herself, she knows how much I love presents, and not just the ones she gives me with that beautiful mouth of hers. She knew I wanted to play with you first, and bless her gorgeous ass, she delivered for me,” I tell him, crouching beside him with a sadistic smile, and pushing my favourite Bowie knife into the flesh of his forehead, cutting straight across as he roars.

“Oh, I know all about that mouth of hers alright. That little slut was giving it to me long before you came along,” he says through gritted teeth with blood streaming down his face. It cuts me to the quick thinking about that. Thinking about what he must’ve put her through, wondering how much of the damage in her soul was inflicted by this fucking asshole. On one hand, I probably owe him one, but on the other, he’s a cunt. My silence must speak volumes because he has the audacity to laugh and continue talking. “Oh yeah, I used to start every day by chaining that little cock tease up and fucking that perfect pie hole of hers until she cried.”

I bring the crowbar down across his stomach over and over again until he’s almost passed out.

“You wanna know something about fucking that perfect mouth of hers, Victor?” I start, as I wriggle my fingers into the gash on his forehead and up under his skin, relishing in the way he screams, and the squelching of my digits in his blood. “When she actually wants you to do it, you know, when you don’t have to chain her up…oh man…she drags her nails down your back, and looks up at you with the devil in her eyes and a curl in those lips, then she’ll smack your ass, grip your hips, and help you fucking do it. And it is just…fucking magic. You see Victor, when a woman is actually enjoying having your dick down her throat, she’ll make you feel things you never even knew were possible. But you wouldn’t know that would you? I’d wager you’ve never actually had a woman really wanna fuck you in your entire miserable existence, that’s why you have to fucking take it from them. Isn’t that right?”

That’s when I dig in and rip. It’s almost like him being bald makes it easier to tear his scalp off, I don’t know, I’ve never scalped a baldie before. Look at that, a first for everything! I tug slowly once I get to the back so that the agony of his skin separating from his skull is long lasting, and I tilt his head back so his eyes are looking right into mine as I do it with a satisfied grin.

“Not so mouthy now are we, Mr. Zsasz?”

He shudders as he goes into shock and eventually bleeds out. I cut his chrome dome off and toss it in the dirt and just wait. I wanna see if it grows back. I stare intently, just waiting, watching, and sure enough it fucking does! I could literally just take him home and lock him up and scalp him every day until the end of fucking time if I wanted to!

It’s tempting. It’s so fucking tempting. But I can’t have him lying about the house traumatizing Blaire, not to mention we’d probably have to sew his yap shut because you know he’d be running that thing twenty-four seven. Though, if such a huge loss of all of his layers of skin and by the looks of it even a little muscle can grow back…it makes me wonder what else can regenerate…idea time!

He comes to gasping and groaning, the headache clearly surviving into what’s now his fourth life. It took a good ten minutes for him to recoup the blood loss, so I took a seat and some time to sharpen my knife and clean my pistol – this knife has a big job ahead of it and I’d hate for it to get too blunt.

“Come on, just fucking kill me already,” he hisses at me, and I grin back at him manically.

“Oh, Victor, I’m not gonna kill you! Yet. I ain’t done hurting you, buddy!” I inform him, beaming and slapping his cheek, blade in hand. His eyes widen in terror and he grits his teeth.

“Now, Blaire and I have been wondering the extent of this…magic potion old Jerry hit us with, and since your scalp grew back – and ever so nicely might I add - I’m wondering what else you could grow back. You see, before we didn’t really know anyone else we could test it on, but now we’ve got you!” I inform him, slapping him on the thigh with a reassurance and what I’m very sure is an unsettling smile.

I crouch beside him and watch him out of the corner of my eye as I reach up and slowly cleave off one of his fingers. The fear in his eyes is nothing short of wonderful, and I kinda get why Johnny gets off on it now. There’s something about it, that’s for sure, and I’ve never really noticed it until now.

“Fuck…” he groans and I wag his own finger at him in chastisement.

“Now, now, Vic, watch your language there! Or maybe we could do another experiment…”

I sock him in the jaw to dislocate it, and then reach into his mouth and grab is tongue between my thumb and forefinger, then give it a slice.

There’s blood everywhere again but I don’t think it’s gonna be anything he can’t stay alive for. The next part though? Well, that may be a different story. He starts to writhe and groan, screech in pain even, and that’s when I notice his finger is indeed starting to grow back. Well whaddaya know? I stare at the bloody stump of his tongue and sure enough, it comes back too.

“Well, well, well! I wonder if it’s just the little bits or if I could take off something bigger…” I muse. “Oh, don’t worry, Vic, your pecker’s safe. I said something bigger!”

I take a beat to consider my options and then swiftly cut a deep gash in the middle of his thigh, being sure to avoid the femoral artery for now. I slice again, this time down to the bone and he’s screaming all kinds of profanities at me, some I’m sure he must have picked up from Blaire herself, because they’re very clearly Australian. The bone is going to be a problem because I don’t have a saw. I’m gonna have to crush it. I take the crowbar and wave it in front of his eyes.

“Oh fuck no!” he manages to slur out somehow, or at least I think that’s what it is. I don’t exactly speak man-with-dislocated-jaw fluently.

“Oh fuck yes, Victor!”

I stand and drive it straight down, wishing I could save the sound of the crack as my ringtone when his femur gives way under my full body weight. It doesn’t break all the way though, so I give it a few jiggles until finally I hit flesh again. I gaze down at him and he’s doing that silent scream thing, mouth hanging open and tears rolling down his face. I might not be able to save the sound, but I can save the moment.

“You know, this seems like the perfect time for a selfie, don’t you think, Vic?” I take out my phone and pose with a grin. “Say cheese!”

That’s when I notice the time and the 78 missed calls. Fuck. I’ve been having way too much fun and I’ve been here too long. Then again, she’s waited for an hour, what’s say, twenty more minutes? It’ll be fine. Especially with the present I intend on bringing her.

I finish the job on his leg, running the knife trough the rest of the muscle and skin, and as I expected he bleeds out. I roll the leg to one side and wait to see if it grows back, using his pants leg as a tourniquet to stop him from bleeding out again the second he comes to. After ten minutes he’s back, but all that happens is him going into shock all over again and passing out. I guess we can’t grow back major limbs. Good to know.

I jab him with a shot of adrenalin that I keep on hand for emergencies, and he wakes up again thrashing. Time to finish the job. There’s gonna be no sleeping through this, cocksucker.

“Well, Vic, it’s been a real gas, but you know I think it’s time we parted ways. And just to be sure you never lay a hand on my girl again, I think it’s best if your head and your shoulders do the same.”

With that, I cut his throat to the bone, give his neck a twist to break it, and hack through the rest as best I can until the old melon rolls off. It takes a good five or so minutes, but it’s worth the effort.

I tear a strip off his sleeve, tie it around his severed head in a pretty orange bow, pike it onto the end of my crowbar, and move out to give the love of my life my best gift yet. Hell, I might even ask her to marry me! Who needs a ring when you’ve got the severed head of her abusive ex/rapist on a stick, am I right?

When I finally emerge from the tunnel after what feels like a god damned century later, I climb out to see her lying there on the ground. The bitch is asleep.

“Falling asleep on the job, baby? Really?” I whisper, bending down so I can pour the words in her ear. She wakes with a fright and looks at me like she’s seen a ghost, before backhanding me so hard across the face I almost go tumbling back down the rabbit hole.

“You fucking asshole! Where have you been! I thought you were dead! Again!” she hollers at me, standing and slapping me again on the other cheek for good measure.

“Ow! Fuck, I’m sorry! I lost track of time!” I tell her as she starts to storm away from me.

“You lost track of time? You lost track of time! Are you fucking kidding me, Jay? I seriously thought they’d - wait, why are you so bloody? Is that your blood? Jesus fucking Christ, what happened in there?” Her face is suddenly concerned and she’s moving towards me, pulling on the lapels of my jacket and opening it to inspect my torso. I’ve been holding the crowbar behind me this whole time and I take a step backwards and slowly bring it around, holding it out to her in one hand with a hopeful grin on my face.

“Is that…” she stoops down to get a better look, then turns those wide eyes up at me in astonishment. I take a knee and hold out my other hand, as she stares at me completely dumbfounded.

“Whaddaya say, baby? Wanna get hitched?” I beam up at her as she stares at me, somehow even more shocked than she already was.

“You killed him…for me?” she asks, glancing at the head and back to me.

“Baby, I’d bring about the fucking apocalypse for you,” I tell her, and even though I’m grinning so wide it hurts, I mean every word. She’s the only one I’ll ever lift a finger for. The only one I truly trust. The only one I’ll kill for. The only one I’d die for. The only one who can control me, who can bend me and break me within an inch of my questionable sanity and who I’d thank for doing it. Superman’s got that kryptonite shit, and I’ve got her.

She knocks the crowbar out of my hand and onto the ground, and shoves me on my ass, taking my face in her hands and hitting me with a kiss so fucking brutal it’s violent. Her knees land either side of my hips, she yanks my bloody shirt open, and it’s on. I can’t get that scrub shirt off her fast enough, and when I do, my hand’s knotting in her hair and I’m gripping her hips so I can roll her over onto her back in the dirt.

“Is that a yes?” I ask her, pulling away with a growl as she bites my lip while I do it.

“You know I don’t believe in that, you cunt,” she reminds me, craning up to bite my ear lobe. “Now be a good boy, and fuck me like you’ve got a chance of changing my mind.”

She bites her lip and grins at me with a raise of her eyebrows, as she reaches down and rips open my jeans, destroying the zipper and popping off the button. I look down at my now very much fucked jeans, then grin right back at her, tear off those scrubs, and pin her down with a hand on her throat. I lick along her jawline nice and slow, getting a taste of the dried blood on her face, and run my hand down her thigh to grab that fucking beautiful ass.

“Well, if the lady insists…” I croon in her ear, and with that I slam into her with everything I’ve got, and the fucking noise she makes is music to my ears. It always is. She’s got one hand around my neck, holding my face down to hers, and the fingernails on her other one are clawing at my back as I pound her into the soil. She traps me into this absolutely savage lip lock that’s all kinds of pleasure and pain, and the way she’s moaning in between kisses and nips just makes me go harder.

I’m fucking high on everything about this moment. On the sounds she’s making, and the way I fit her like I was fucking made for her. On the way she moves with me so effortlessly, like we’re an extension of each other, and the intoxicating smell of blood, sweat, sex, and damp earth. Completely blitzed on the knowledge that there’s nothing that can stop us now, and how now I can have this every night until the end of all days.

I know she’s almost there when she finally lets me go, and her head throws back, perfect mouth hanging open and eyes turned up to the heavens. That’s when I choke her, hard, and feel her bear down around me, legs hooking at my back and hand tightening on my throat. Then comes my favourite sound in the world second to absolutely nothing: my name on her lips, ringing out into the night as she comes for me, thrashing and shuddering in my arms. Now that, my friends, is magic.

I don’t let up until I blow my load about a minute later and collapse on top of her, panting like I’ve just run a fucking marathon. She reaches a hand up to run her fingers through my hair and spill a few choice profanities from her lips, and I lift my head up to look down at her.

“Changed your mind yet?” I ask her.

“Not a chance,” she informs me with a shake of her head and a grin a country mile wide.

“Can’t blame a guy for trying,” I shrug.

“Oh I know, and now I’ve got the perfect carrot to dangle to make sure you keep trying.” The sadistic smirk on her is infuriatingly beautiful right now.

“You’re a bitch,” I laugh, rolling off her onto my back to lay by her side.

“Thank you.” She turns to me beaming, then she has some kind of epiphany, I can see it in her eyes. “Babe, we did it. We fucking did it.”

She slaps me on the stomach hard and I let out a groan that quickly turns to laughter.

“Of course we did, baby, we’re us.”

She props herself up on her elbow and lands a hand on my chest, smiling down at me, lip between her teeth, leaves and twigs in her hair, and blood and dirt all over her face. Those clear grey eyes roll at me and she plants one on me hard and quick, then pulls back shaking her head.

“Wanna get outta here?” she asks.

“Thought you’d never ask,” I come back with, spanking her on the ass and throwing in a grope for good measure. “I am so far from done trying, and if I recall – you owe me something.”

“Mmm, that’s right, I do…and you have well and truly earned it…”


End file.
